Hunger
by walking primrose
Summary: Death had always been a fear of hers. Emer and sister Claire are trying to survive in a world that is slowly turning its back on its survivors. Follow their journey as they search for hope in a new world that isn't what it used to be, and with people who aren't what they seem. Daryl/OC/Rick.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Hunger  
**Rating**: T (may change)  
**Summary:** Death had always been a fear of hers. The entirety of death: the uncertainty of an unknown realm that many individuals: whether it is due to natures plans, their own or someone else's, are left with the divide between their lives - earth - and the next chapter - heaven, hell or limbo - where the latter is blank, awaiting the individuals to create a world of their own.  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any characters of The Walking Dead. All OC's are mine.

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**Chapter One  
**

Death had always been a fear of hers.

The entirety of death: the uncertainty of an unknown realm that many individuals: whether it was due to natures plans, their own or someone else's, are left with the divide between their lives - earth - and the next chapter - heaven, hell or limbo - where the latter is blank, awaiting the individuals to create a world of their own. Her fear of death had stemmed from the tragic demise of a beloved pet rabbit called Patrick, who, in a term so prudent and cruel, had been mauled to death by the family dog. She had found his body in the garden one morning, bloody and verging on death. He was still alive - though barely - but his lungs had been pierced due to the canine teeth of the mutt and so with every breath he took, it was becoming more harder for him to cling on.

He had been a much loved family pet, and in his dying moments, she had promised Patrick that she would never give the mutt the time of day. The mutt, however, stuck by her as she cried herself to sleep. She had told him to leave her alone, even threw books at him, to run away and not come back but he remained where he was, sat by her bed, alert of everything that was going on.

A few weeks after the death of Patrick, on an evening where families were putting the first of their yearly Christmas decorations up, a loud cry echoed throughout the land surrounding their farm house. The family; mother, father, littler sister and her - Sarah, Tom, Claire and Emer - all ran to the sound and found their dog fighting with a scraggy fox. The fox had given Rex the same injuries as Patrick had had, and after many attempts of scaring the fox away like a scarecrow with crows, the family of four rushed Rex to the vet as quickly as they could.

Four hours and twenty-seven minutes later, Rex was returned to the kennels with his broken leg and bite wounds tended to. His eye, however, had been too badly damaged and could not be repaired.

With the one-eyed mutt who had quickly become her hero, she began a life for herself on a road of the unknown, where anything was possible. As long as her companion was safe, then she knew she would be too.

Years went by and she found herself living in a tiny apartment in the heart of Louisiana with her younger sister, Claire and dog, Rex. Her sister was studying medicine at the Louisiana Medical School and doing a placement at the local hospital. Emer, however, hadn't done as well at school as she nor her parents had hoped and so she joined the police force where she quickly went through the ranks to become a negotiator. It wasn't what she wanted to do but she soon learned to love the fact that she could get up close with people and know that she was in control of the situation: she needed to be the person in charge of individuals at all times just in case they truly decided to cause harm on others and themselves.

Everything in her life was running smoothly, and she was finally realizing who she was as a person… then the dead started rising and the world as she had known it was over. As quick as a click of the fingers, the world had ended. The city had become overrun with the dead and the army was taking them down in quick succession. It had been a Tuesday when the decision to leave had been her main priority. Claire was staying at a friend's house, studying for an upcoming test. She packed everything she thought she and Claire would need into the back of her car, put Rex into the car along with tins of dog food and drove to Claire's friend's apartment as quickly as the clapped out car could carry her. Despite Claire putting her foot down and adamantly telling Emer that there was no way in hell she was leaving before her important exam, the thought of her parents being out in the countryside in Atlanta and probably not knowing what was happening made her decision to go with Emer become paramount. Tom and Sarah had never liked technology and so only relied on a telephone whenever Emer and Claire needed them.

It had been three months since the outbreak began and it was becoming clear that the world would never be restored to how it was before. So Emer, being the big sister, took it into her own hands and made sure Claire was safe and kept out of harm's way. The traumatic time they had recently experienced had caused them endless amounts of grief but they needed to keep their chins up and move on, hoping that a safe place would be close by.

It was morning by the time Claire fell asleep. She had spent the majority of the night tossing and turning on the hard floor of the woods before deciding to give up and take watch with Emer.

Emer was wrapped up in a blanket with Rex sat next to her. Claire's breathing had become shallow and the older sister knew that the young girl was finally sleeping. A small smile etched across her face as she was grateful for the exhaustion that seemed to take over. Claire needed her sleep but she was stubborn most of the time whenever it came to sleep. It had caused their parents many nights of hell trying to make Claire get to sleep or sleep in her own bed most of the time.

Claire was stirring. "What time is it?"

Claire sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She yawned and wrapped the blanket round her more tightly to protect herself from the bitter coldness of the early morning.

Emer glanced at her watch. "Just after seven."

"You haven't slept."

"You've barely slept," Emer returned. "You're not well. You need the rest more than I do."

Claire sighed, knowing that if the conversation continued, they wouldn't get anywhere. "What's the plan for today? More walking around in the woods and eating nothing?"

Emer shrugged off the blanket and folded it up. Claire remained sat against the tree, her tired eyes glazing over.

"Hope not. We need to keep moving though. Hopefully we can find a house we can stay in for a while." Emer said, pushing the blanket into the backpack. She shrugged the backpack onto her shoulders and beckoned for Claire to do the same. The younger sister grumbled and made a start.

"Yay," Claire murmured, sarcastically. "Another day of dodging the dead."

"Come on," Emer said. "We need to keep moving."

Emer and Claire set off for another day of travelling through the woods. Despite their feet causing them pain, they trudged on as best as they could. Rex was walking in front, ears twitching at every sound he could hear. Their car had broken down just a few days earlier and they didn't realise how much they depended on the vehicle. It had taken them the majority of the day trying to fix the car but neither of them had any experience of what needed to be done. The relief of not having to carry everything they owned had been exactly what they needed and now, without the reliability of the vehicle, they had to leave the things that they didn't necessarily need with the broken down car.

After a few stops to refill their energy, they had quickly made it to the quarry. There had been no sightings of the dead and even though it had been a relief, Emer couldn't shake the feeling of uneasiness. The dead were always lurking somewhere: no matter where they turned, the dead would permanently be there.

"I n-need to s-stop…" Claire mumbled from behind her sister.

Emer turned to see Claire stumble a little and quickly rushed to her side. She gently sat Claire down on a log and pulled a bottle of warm water out of her bag, bringing it to her sisters lips. Claire drank slowly, feeling the warm liquid slip down her dry throat and sit uncomfortably on her stomach.

"You're okay," Emer whispered, stroking her sister's hair. "I'm here."

Emer carefully skimmed the outline of the trees, waiting for something, anything, to pop out. When nothing seemed to be any different, Emer sat down next to Claire and took her sisters hand in hers.

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A few miles away, on a piece of land that looked like a finely drawn portrait, stood a white farmhouse surrounded by green rolling hills and endless and endless amounts of farming land. It was picturesque, as if it had just come out of a magazine. A white picket fence surrounded the house, and a barn was situated within walking distance. Cars sat outside, stationary, and an old RV was parked up close to the farmhouse. Tents were scattered around on the grass outside the farmhouse: the majority close together and one just placed a little far away than the others.

Shane Walsh, a hot headed officer, pointed a gun at the head of fellow officer, Rick Grimes. Despite everyone around him yelling at him to put the gun down, he ignored them. Blocked them out even. Their voices never seemed to pierce his mind as he stared at his best friend - who was he kidding? - who stared back at him with no fear in his eyes. Rick had been his best friend since they had joined the police academy but times as tough as they were; their friendship had soon become strained.

There was a click of a weapon behind Shane's head and the man closed his eyes. He knew the redneck would sooner or later take him down.

"Shane, ya don't want to do this."

"What do you know, Daryl? You're nothing but scum. You and your brother!"

Daryl Dixon, with narrowed eyes, watched as Shane kept his gun poised in Rick's direction.

"Ya mad, we get that. But ya don't need to take Rick out," Daryl argued.

Merle stepped forward, his gun pointed in Shane's direction. "Ya wanna talk shit about me and my brother, huh? Ya wanna eat a bullet?"

"Merle!" Daryl hissed.

Shane kept his gaze on Rick, and the latter did the same. Shane could feel the rest of the group staring at him with intent to kill but he didn't care. It was time to do something about Rick. He was angry at the sheriff: how could he just walk back into their lives when he had told Lori and Carl that he had passed? How could the sheriff, his best friend, turn up out of blue and play happy families with everyone again? It made him angry at the fact that as long as Rick was around, Lori was not his. He couldn't bare the fact that Rick had that hold over his wife. Lori wanted to get out of the relationship way before Rick was shot and put into a coma, and now that he's alive in a world where the dead walks, she put all their troubles behind her and carried on as if their relationship hadn't reached breaking point.

"I know you're mad, Shane, but this is not the way of doing what you want to do. Sure, you want to kill me. I can see why, but this is not right. It's wrong on so many levels," Rick whispered, his voice croaking and thick with fear. "Please, just put the gun down and we can talk about all of this."

Shane shook his head. "No point. I'm taking my chance."

It was then that Shane pulled the trigger. The bulled whizzed through the air with a destination in sight but before the bullet could rip through Rick's head, Daryl and Merle had both moved forward and tackled Shane to the ground. Rick had dodged the bullet with the skin of his teeth. He was on the ground as the scream pierced throughout the air. He could see in a flurry of images as Andrea, Dale and the rest of the group except Daryl and Merle who were holding down a very angry Shane, towards the body on the ground.

Amy was lying on the ground, bleeding from a bullet wound in her abdomen. Andrea quickly pulled her young sister up and cradled her just as Hershel raced out of the house, anger racing through his veins.

"Get her in the house, now." Hershel said, keeping the door open as T-Dog and Glenn carried Amy into the house. "Rick, do something about him. He's a liability."

Rick Grimes stood up and watched as his former best friend struggled against the restraint of Daryl and Merle. He noticed how his former friends face was contorted with such hatred that he knew it was time to do something about it. If he didn't make a decision now, those who had become his family would be in harm's way.


	2. Chapter 2

******Disclaimer:** I do not own any characters of The Walking Dead. All OC's are mine.

* * *

**Chapter Two  
**

The atmosphere within the group was tense, though no-one ushered a word regarding the current situation. Amy was being treated by Hershel, whom was doing the best as he could possibly can regarding the lack of medical intervention, although the bullet had been lodged within her rib, he was sure that he had gotten the majority of the bullet out, if not all of it. The way the bullet had entered her body had been deadly due to the direction of the actual wound but he was sure that with enough rest and medication that they could rustle up, the young girl would be absolutely fine. Shane had shot her at close range and Hershel was shocked that the bullet hadn't gone straight through.

Andrea was sat by Amy's bed side most of the time when her sister was struggling with the pain. Other times, when she knew her sister was asleep, she would only ever stray from her bed side to stand next to the window. It was mostly to see what was happening outside. Andrea had to restrain herself from flying out of the house, gun in hand and pointing in the direction of Shane Walsh, and shooting the man in the head. Lori and Carol along with the two younger children all sat in the room with her, giving her the company she needed. Rick, Daryl and Merle were currently moving Shane to an area in which they could tie him up and keep an eye on him.

It wasn't safe for anyone to be around Shane at the moment. The man was too much of a danger for the others to be in company with. Like Hershel had said: 'He's a liability'. And he was. He had always been a liability ever since he and Rick became friends many years ago. Shane was always the hot headed one of the two: he would fly off the handle at anything and often at something so minor. He wanted things done in a certain way – his way – and if it wasn't then that individual would have hell to pay. Rick, on the other hand, was a laid back guy and probably too laid back. He had a family and they meant the world to him. He was patient and knew that people made mistakes in their life but most of the time, they were given a second chance. He believed in ensuring that everyone was okay, mentally and emotionally, because the job they did often allowed scars to form on the most fragile pieces of the human body. Unlike Shane, he had a heart.

The sun was slowly disappearing, engulfing the group on another night of the unknown. Glenn and T-Dog had spent the last part of an hour searching the fences to check if the gunshot had stirred the passing dead. So far they could see nothing out of the ordinary.

"What do you think Rick's gonna do?" T-Dog asked, staring out at the darkness within the woods.

"Rick's a good guy, he'll do what's right."

"So he'll kill him?"

Glenn shrugged, sighing. "If that's the only thing to do that will ensure the camp is safe from Shane's anger then yeah, he'll kill him. Or get the Dixon's to do it."

T-Dog nodded. He had no problem with Shane before tonight. Sure, he was never close to the man and even though he agreed on some of the things Shane believed, tonight had proved that if Shane wasn't happy about something, he was going to change it whether the others liked it or not. And tonight, especially, tipped the scale: killing his best friend. When he had pulled the gun on Rick, it had been a moment of complete and utter terror but also quite calming. He couldn't describe the feeling he felt. They were walking back towards the farmhouse when they spotted Dale walking towards them with his rifle in hand.

"Hershel's finished fixing Amy up now. She's still asleep but he got the bullet out."

"Thanks for letting us know," Glenn said. "How's Andrea doing?"

Dale turned towards the farmhouse, took a glance at the window where Andrea was stood looking out, before turning back to the two men. "Not good. She's doing her best to not rip his head off but Amy's alive and doing well. That's all she really wants."

T-Dog nodded, tipping his head in the direction Rick and the others went. "What's happening with them?"

Dale had seen the three men – Rick, Daryl and Merle – all but drag Shane around the back of the farmhouse but he didn't dare to go round and take a look. "I don't know. It looks to me that they're going to keep him tied up for a while. Keep him away from the others, too. Did you find anything?" Dale motioned towards the woods.

Glenn and T-Dog shook their heads at the same time.

Dale was glad but he couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty and dread from his stomach. They didn't want to be overrun when a member of their group was critically injured. "Just keep your eyes out, boys. Us not seeing any of them now doesn't mean that there won't be any later. Tell everyone to keep their eyes and ears on the edge of the woods and the road."

The two men nodded before going to join the others in the farmhouse. Dale had just climbed up on the roof of the RV when Daryl, Merle and Rick came from behind the farmhouse. Rick went straight into the house to his family and Merle walked towards his tent. Daryl climbed up onto the roof and sat on the edge of the RV with a sigh. Dale silently passed a canteen of water in the hunters' direction and Daryl muttered his gratitude.

"What's happening?"

"Ain't decided yet. Rick's being the loyal friend even though Shane had a gun to his head and about to blow his brains out all over his family. Rick's in shock though."

"I bet. Having your friend pull a gun on you when you suggest he goes hunting with you and Merle rather than relying on the Greene family to have the food is a bit shocking."

Daryl took a sip of water, and handed it back to Dale. "Shane thinks Rick took everything away from him the moment he came back?"

Dale thought this over for a moment, and then shot Daryl a confused look. "Like what?"

Daryl stared out towards the woods. "Lori and Carl."

The older man breathed out a sigh. "He's been different since Rick joined our group."

"He's lost his mind," Daryl muttered. "The man's gone crazy."

"That's one good reason for it. The circumstances we're in, especially, can fight against you at the best of times. It's not surprising that it's taken this long for one of us to lose it. But is Shane really that unstable?"

"He put a gun to his friends head, so yeah. He saw red, apparently. Got fed up that Rick was ordering us about, telling us what to do. Shane can be a loose cannon sometimes and that's dangerous."

"But is that enough to tie him up?" Dale asked.

Daryl nodded. "If I were Rick, I'd tie him up. Don't wanna be shot in my sleep."

Dale had no words. He sat with Daryl in silence, both milling over the situation they had been put in. Shane had never reacted like this before and it only shocked, and scared, the group. To have someone who had been a leader for a certain time, it was shocking to see him in such a state of utter desperation. He had lost control of his anger, and he was taking it out on the only person who knew everything about him.

"What's going to happen tomorrow?"

"Me and Merle are gonna go hunting. We need food," Daryl said. "We're gonna leave early in the morning so we should be back before late afternoon."

Dale nodded. "How's Merle doing?"

"He's still Merle, unfortunately. But he's doing okay."

There had been an incident not that long ago when the group had been travelling to the CDC for some answers about the dead being undead. The vehicles had to be left not that far away from the building and while they were running towards the door to the CDC, Merle had been surrounded by walkers. The entire group, even Daryl, had hesitated about whether or not they should go and save him. Daryl came out from the doubt and took down the walkers in quick succession, but not without the disapproving looks from Merle. The fact that his brother had hesitated had made Merle feel like dirt on the bottom of his shoe. He was his brother which meant that he should have his back, but now he knew where he stood. There had been a huge argument in the CDC which led to some members of the group getting into a bust up.

"He won't talk to me but he'll come round."

Dale looked towards the house, then at Daryl and gathered that without them realising it, their group was slowly falling apart at the seams.

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The house that stood before them was something out of a horror film. The wood that the house was built with was slowly dwindling and the paint was flaking off due to the neglect. The house, from the outside, was decaying. It had been hours since the two sisters had taken a break and now they were feeling the full brunt of exhaustion and it hit them like a truck.

Rex was patiently sitting next to the house. Emer and Claire were drinking water, their eyes never straying from the house. Emer unclasped her gun and passed it towards Claire, who looked back at her with fear in her eyes.

"I can't."

"Even if you don't need to fire it, just knowing that you were armed would make me feel happy. Knowing that you have something that could save your life." Emer said, her hand still holding the gun. "Only use the gun if you need to."

Claire looked at it and closed her eyes, her breathing becoming a lot calmer. "Okay."

"You stay close to me, okay? Never stray off. Rex will alert us if there's anything in the rooms." Emer said, and with that, they made their way towards the house.

Emer opened the latch door slowly, trying to muffle the creak of the door. Rex immediately started sniffing the closed door and waited patiently for Emer to open the front door so he could enter. Once she did, Rex ran sensibly through the ground floor rooms and ran back to the front door which signalled that the two women were able to enter. They did, cautiously, and like Rex, found nothing.

Rex began climbing the stairs as quietly as he could, and once the closed doors of the entire downstairs had been checked, Emer left Claire downstairs and followed Rex to the second floor. They searched the first two rooms and all were empty before they reached the last room on the left. The dog was sitting outside the room with his ears standing in alert. Emer glanced at the door and took a deep breath. Her hand touched the handle and fear crept into her heart. She turned the handle and budged the heavy door open, only to be confronted with a horrible scent that burned her senses. The smell of death was evident and she was uncertain about whether the dead smell within the room was coming from the dead _dead_ or the actual dead. She kicked open the door quietly, her gun poised and up, ready to shoot.

What she was met with was not what she expected. A young boy was stood by the window, his body swaying slightly. He was looking out at the land surrounding the house, as if he was lost in thought. He was around the age of five, with blonde scruffy hair and dirty, blood stained clothes. Emer swallowed the lump in her throat, and with one hand clicked her fingers.

The boy quickly looked at her and it was then that she was given the opportunity to see the extent of his wounds. A bite mark was situated on his cheek, and his eyes were an infected yellow colour. His eyes were hungry and his mouth started opening and closing, as if he was chewing something. A groan escaped his mouth and he began to make his way towards her, slowly at first but as her scent reached his senses, he scrambled to grab her.

The bullet escaped the chamber at a quick rate, and quickly pierced through the decaying flesh and bone of his head. The young boy flicked back and fell to the floor where thick black liquid poured out of his head. Emer stared at the body of the dead boy for a few moments before taking a look around the room. It was a boys room and had a small single bed in the middle of the room. Toys were scattered along the floor and it was only when Emer narrowed her eyes that she noticed the carcass of what used to be the family dog.

Quickly closing the door, she and Rex made their way downstairs and back to Claire, who was sorting through the bags. She had taken the majority of their stuff out of the bags and had made a small bed on the ground behind a window. She had placed tins of food out so that the two of them could have a choice.

When Emer had entered the room, Claire ran to her and enveloped her in a hug. Claire looked at her with a knowing look.

"Was it one of them?"

Emer nodded and made her way towards the makeshift bed. She knew that even though Claire may have wanted to know more, Emer knew that her sister wouldn't be able to handle the news. It was better that she didn't know.

The sun was going down and Claire and Emer had eaten a tin of rice pudding each, though both of them had given Rex a bit of their own. The dog was currently lying in the middle of Claire and Emer, his head resting in the direction of the door. Claire was lying on her back, eyes closed. Emer, however, was sat against the wall and her eyes were slowly closing. It had been a few days since she had last slept for more than four hours.

Claire turned over and noticed Emer sitting up. "Get some sleep. I'll keep an eye out."

"Are you sure?" Emer asked, to which Claire nodded. She settled down, and Claire reached over to grab the book both of them were currently reading. As soon as Emer's head touched the backpack, she was lost in the realms of sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any characters of The Walking Dead. All OC's are mine.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

The sound of hissing filled her senses and pierced the nightmare she was currently wrapped up in. She was dreaming of her parents being torn open: their insides being greedily ripped out and gorged on by the decaying and hungry dead. She was crying out to the dead, telling them to stop but they kept eating. She was alone, except for the monsters and her dying, if not already dead, parents. Claire was nowhere to be found, and neither was Rex. They had been around here not that long ago, but now it was as if they'd simply disappeared into thin air. The hissing continued, and no matter how many times she rolled away from the noise, the noise kept getting louder and louder.

"Ssh, Rex." She murmured, sleeping. The remaining sliver of her nightmare fading away as the light crept in.

She put her hand out to the space where Claire had been not even a few hours ago, but when she opened her eyes she realised the space was empty and cold. Her eyes flung open and she glanced around the room. Claire and Rex were nowhere to be seen, and it was then that she heard the hissing. The hissing of the dead hadn't been part of her dream. It was real. Shadows moved across the window and she stole a glance at the figures shuffling towards the inside of the house. Her heart jumped into her throat. The dead were outside, and by the sounds of the ever growing hissing, they had found their way inside as well. Claire and Rex were gone and she was alone.

Emer quickly and as quietly as she could, pulled everything that had been left out the night before and threw it aimlessly into her backpack as best as she could. Her heart was hammering against her chest at such a speed; she wasn't surprised if her heart forced itself out of her body. She picked up her weapons, slipped the knife into the strap placed on her waist, and positioned the gun in the holster. It was at that moment that she saw a small piece of paper on the ground next to her.

In scruffy and rushed handwriting, she made out her sisters scrawl and cursed silently. _Emer, we've gone to get some water. Won't be long._

Shaking her head and slipping the note into her back pocket, she stood up. Then, she moved towards the window and watched as the dead shuffled towards her: the scent of her capturing their attention.

"Shit.." She moved away from the window just as the bangs on the glass caused it to shatter. The scent of the dead filled her senses and she picked up the backpack in one swift movement. There was a door that came off the room and she opened it as quietly as she could, and slipped into the room. It was a dining room that had white walls with scuff marks at the bottom. A large table with fifteen chairs stood in the middle of the room. The room was tidy, despite the destruction in the other rooms.

The clamour of the dead was growing louder and she swiftly made her exit out of the back door. Turning back towards the house, she watched as the dead were making their way into the rooms she had just departed. The note burned in her pocket and as tears filled her eyes, she knew that she needed to find Claire and Rex before it was too late.

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Daryl Dixon yawned as the early morning sun peeked through the bright clouds. He ran his hand through his unkempt hair, and stretched. The cracks of his bones signalled a good night's sleep, and one that he hadn't been able to have since their days at the CDC. It seemed a long time ago since they had been within the safe walls of the building but it had only been three days. Three days now seemed a lifetime.

He slipped out of the tent and pulled on a shirt. The camp area was empty, except for T-Dog who was currently sat on the RV with binoculars in his hand. He nodded up towards the man and T-Dog nodded back. It was then he began to hear movement behind him and turned to see Carol exit her tent, leaving a sleeping Sophia inside.

"It's early," Carol noted, shivering as the coldness mixed with her sleepy warmth. Daryl nodded and dragged his crossbow outside. "You be careful, alright? You and Merle, you both come back. We need you both here, what with Shane and everything."

"I know, and I will. As soon as we find some food, we'll be back."

"Do you promise?" Carol whispered.

Daryl nodded, unsure of what to say. Carol smiled and closed in on Daryl: she reached up and gently brushed her lips against his rough cheek. She felt him flinch as they came into contact, but she never gave any indication that she felt it. She didn't want him to feel any more uncomfortable.

Over the last few months her feelings for Daryl had become stronger. She had just brushed them under the imaginary carpet in hope that they would disappear, and that it was just a silly crush at the end of the world. But the feelings only ever became stronger, and she had no reason but to deny them anymore. Daryl was slowly becoming a firm member within the group and he had proved himself to everyone that he was nothing like his brother and that people could trust him. Daryl, on the other hand, still felt as if he was an outsider but he had been an outsider for so many years of his life that getting over that would take some time to get used to. Rick was treating him differently, despite the sheriff being reserved whenever Daryl and Merle were together.

"Be careful."

Daryl gave one final nod towards Carol before stalking away in the direction of his brother, who was currently in a rant with Glenn. The latter had been on watch and was currently arguing with the older Dixon about delaying his sleep by moving around the camp loudly.

Rick crept out of tent he shared with his wife and son, and approached Daryl and the latter slowed. Rick turned to him. "Shane is hollering and shouting to be let out. He's a strong man and I don't think the handcuffs will last very long. Be sure you and Merle get back as soon as possible."

"Ya got Glenn and T-Dog," said Daryl, his eyes narrowing towards the small building Shane was being held in.

"I know," Rick answered. "But they're not you or Merle. Both of you can take care of yourselves, and Shane… you can both take him on. He's my friend-"

"-Who nearly killed you."

Rick bit his lip. "Point taken, Daryl. You and Merle… you won't take no shit from Shane."

"Ya want me to be ya body guard?"

"That's not what I'm saying," Rick turned to where Lori and Carl were coming out of the tent and shivering at the coldness that the late summer mornings had brought. "I know nothing will stand in his way, except for you and Merle. I'm thinking about the group here. They need me to be around them but also out there searching for a permanent residence for them. I can't be in two places at once. While I'm not here, Daryl, I want you and your… I can't believe I'm saying this… and your brother to protect the group from Shane. You got that?"

Daryl bit his thumb and nodded. "Sure. But ya have to worry about Merle. There's nothing stopping him putting a bullet in ya buddy's head."

"And that's what I'm worried about. Shane's been through a lot and I know what he did was wrong, but we have to think positively about this whole situation. Amy's okay, which I'm very happy about, but we need to care for Shane."

"He's a grown man, Rick," replied Daryl. "We've been through the same shit he's been through but ya don't see me hollering around camp shooting off guns because I don't like the hierarchy of the group. Some people are sensitive, I get that, but that don't give them any excuse to go putting a gun in their 'friends' face because he's fed up. We're all fed up. He just needs to get over it."

Daryl had a point there, Rick mused. Shane wasn't the only person to be in this shit hole. Every single person who was here had been through enough to last them a lifetime. They woke every morning with the worry that they wouldn't be here to see the sun rise the next day, but they never made a song or dance about it. They just got on with it: doing their best with what they had, and at that moment in time, it wasn't a lot. Rick knew that as long as they had each other, and agreed on most things, that the group would go back to how it used to be and that everything was okay. They didn't need four walls or a roof over their head to know that they had protection, because they could look at the people around them and know that if they ever needed to talk to someone, then someone was there for them.

"I'll speak to him," Rick said, mostly to himself.

Daryl watched him for a moment, ignoring his brothers shouts to get his ass into gear. "Make sure he don't shoot ya."

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* * *

Emer was lost. So very lost. The woods surrounding her tiny frame seemed to go on forever, and as she turned left and right, she was seeing the same scene over and over again. She cursed, biting her lip. As soon as she found Claire, that was it. Claire wasn't well, and yet she still went out trying to find some water. The water could've waited, but Claire being the helpful little sister didn't realise the dangers that now awaited them outside. There were the zombies, sure, but now people… people were dangerous and would do anything for the necessities in life. She could only imagine how many people died for a canteen of water. She closed her eyes, and reopened them.

Green and brown met her and she huffed out a sigh. At least Claire had Rex. That was one good thing about this whole situation. Rex was good in situations like this. He had accompanied her many times where she made a supply run and Claire stayed in the car. The car had been their sanctuary and Emer kicked herself for thinking that their journey without the car would be okay. She was wrong. So very wrong.

She walked some more, ignoring the pain in her ankle. It wasn't long before she reached the quarry. The quarry appeared to be the same as it had done the day before when Claire and she had rested before making their way to the farmhouse. She searched around, narrowing her eyes but she couldn't see Claire anywhere. She sat down on the same log and brought her legs up to her chest. The pain in her ankle was overbearing, and taking another look around and noting that there were no zombies around, she took her boot off and rolled down her sock.

A dark purple tinge had formed on her ankle, and from the look of it, it was also swollen. Gently prodding on the swelling, Emer cursed and winced.

But as she did, a loud scream echoed throughout the woods along with the barking of a dog.


End file.
